WordArt

Say something. Just say something because you should. Because you need to start making a habit of it. If you want to write you’re going to have to write. Stop being tired. It’s not getting you anywhere. So I’m writing, I’m writing. Saying absolutely nothing, but I am writing, because you say this is the thing to do. Writing writing writing. Yes, very nice.

My little sister got me this really cool candle. It’s product (red), so I love it. And it smells like a good looking man, so I love that too. It says 'sha(red)' around the outside of the frosted red glass. And I think that it’s nice. I like sharing. It makes everything seem bigger.

I have absolutely nothing to say. My brain has apparently become a crusty grey shell of what used to be a neverending trail of wonder. Maybe I can sleep then. My hopefulness has now cancelled out my very hope of calmness.

My scalp itches. I think it is the weather. I am bored of my hair. I liked it for 5 whole minutes once. It was a good moment. Too many ponytails. When I move to Africa I am going to look like Matt Damon’s lover in Bourne Supremacy, and then I’m going to shave my head. When your hair is too short, you have to like it, because you can’t do a damn thing but let it grow out. I don’t know why I insist on pretending that this is fact, but it seems right.

Enough enough. Bear with, and we will try again tomorrow.